“You’re saying they built this place to create social strata.”

  Trevor nodded.

  “On Earth, the Solomons lived in the outer stretches of the cities, segregated from Chancellors. They came to work, quietly did their bit, and returned home. They weren’t poor by any means, but they weren’t allowed to inhabit the same stratosphere as my caste. It’s not as obvious here, I’ll grant you.”

  “So, it’s nuanced?”

  “Good word.”

  “Even if it is, Trev, it’s far more equitable than most planets. Don’t get me started about Hokkaido. I could go on for hours about the seamasters.”

  She made a valid point. Almost every member world divided its people into the privileged, the downtrodden, and the masses in between. Amity’s subtle distinction shouldn’t have bothered him.

  They passed students en route to the front portico. Trevor lowered his voice.

  “Let’s put it this way, Hoshi. When my brother took his first job in maintenance, he was told to vacate his flat in Harmony because he no longer qualified for residency. The Housing Authority assigned it to an ambassador’s chief of staff. Connor didn’t care. He’s fine so long as he has a bed.”

  “But you were pissed?”

  “Still am.”

  “OK. Fine. I see your position, but I respectfully disagree, Trev. And I don’t see how it’s relevant to our investigation.”

  He snapped back.

  “Everything’s relevant. A man is dead. A student. Not one of the elites. Pay attention to how the headmaster, the mentor, and his classmates respond to our questions. You’ll see the difference.”

  Trevor didn’t regret falling down the rabbit hole of Amity social dynamics; they fascinated him to no end. The day he and Connor arrived, the station felt like a pioneer boomtown bursting at the seams. It morphed into something he no longer recognized, run by people who lacked the pioneer spirit.

  Maybe his critics in Central were right. Maybe the ‘Lifetime Deputy’ needed a change of scenery.

  Trevor and Hoshi flashed their wrist plates at the door-mounted LinkPass Reader and entered the lobby, upon which a young woman in a pink flowered sari greeted them.

  “Good day, officers. I am Deena. How might I assist you?”

  “Headmaster Thet,” Trevor said.

  Deena the greeter responded with what Trevor called a permanent smile. She reminded him of folks he encountered daily in the diplomatic corps. Perhaps they trained her.

  “Headmaster Bien Thet is currently engaged in private consults. I’d be delighted to add you to his schedule.”

  The lobby acted as an echo chamber, amplifying the conversation.

  “We have urgent business on behalf of Security Administration. Please inform Headmaster Thet to suspend his consults.”

  If Trevor’s request threw the greeter, she showed no hint.

  “The Headmaster has a full schedule, as you might imagine, but he supports the hard work of the ESA. I’ll happily inform him of your visit and encourage him to contact you at his earliest convenience.”

  That sounded about right. A drone would’ve done just as well.

  “We are not Episteme Sec Admin.” Trevor pointed to the color code atop his chest bar. “We’re from Haven. And I have legal claim to forcibly excuse Mr. Thet from his duties. I’m sure he’s in your ear. Contact him now. We’ll meet him in his office.”

  The mention of Haven raised an eyebrow. Deena glared at the bars but never lost her pleasant demeanor.

  “I’ll see what I might arrange, deputies.” She pointed across the way to empty sofas. “We have a lovely waiting area. Please.”

  Trevor nodded Hoshi in that direction and waited until the greeter retreated. As expected, she tapped an ear bead and spoke, her back turned to the deputies.

  “Follow me,” he told Hoshi. “He’s not far.”

  “Shouldn’t we wait for ...”

  “Not enough time in the day.” They entered the nearest corridor leading deep into the school’s administrative offices. Trevor mapped everything while waiting at Mogandi Station. “Did you notice how she reacted when I mentioned Haven?”

  “Not especially. Perhaps she was embarrassed by the error. She might not be familiar with our colors.”

  “You’re not going to give an inch on this, are you?”

  “On what? Your theory about Haven being a home for second-class citizens? The unseen?”

  He brushed off her challenge.

  “Expand your worldview. Drop into Harmony and Episteme more often. You’d be surprised what you find.”

  She chuckled under her breath.

  “Says the man who hasn’t left the station in nineteen years.”

  The reply hurt for almost a second. It was not original.

  Trevor pointed to the office approaching on their left.

  “I’ll take lead.”

  “Ah. I’m to remain silent then.”

  “Not if you have something important to add. Don’t take offense, Hoshi. I earned the right to pull rank.”

  “As you say, First Deputy.”

  Her tone confirmed: She took offense.

  “It’s not personal. You don’t know these people like I do. They jump at the first sign of weakness or hesitation. Oh, and don’t be fooled by their platitudes.”

  Trevor entered the headmaster’s office complex and zeroed in on the next obstacle. A short, rail-thin black man in a white business robe released a finger from his ear bead. Trevor didn’t need to guess who spoke on the other end.

  He looked like a first cousin to the man Effie had been sleeping with the past few months. Not a pleasant first impression.

  “All the best to you, deputies. I am Iber Faciendo, Executive Assistant to the Headmaster. As you were told in reception, Mr. Thet is occupied at this time.”

  He pointed through a glass divide into a larger office, where a crowd of perhaps two dozen sat in a semi-circle facing Thet, who relaxed in a tall, cushioned chair with huge arms.

  “Tell the Headmaster to say his goodbyes and meet with us, or he can make an excuse and join us out here. Although I can’t guarantee how much time we’ll require.”

  Iber also mastered the permanent smile, but Trevor detected a wiser creature hid behind it. For one, a man well-versed in Amity law.

  “I see,” Iber said, nodding to both deputies. “Determination is a trait the Headmaster values in his students. He will no doubt respect yours as well. Please. Follow me.”

  A section of glass pixelated to become an open door. The assistant motioned for the officers to stand beside him behind the audience, all of whom appeared to be in their twenties. A couple, Trevor reasoned, were likely teen prodigies. He estimated at least fifteen member planets were represented.

  One student, who Trevor reckoned was a Damascene from the planet Euphrates, spoke to Thet with head bowed.

  “My dilemma remains bent toward the question of how far might we allow these excesses of progress to take us? We dare not repeat the mistakes which opened the gates to the Swarm War, yet the advances made because of that war are undeniable. I find the mere idea of reengagement with the other universes more terrifying than compelling. What say you, Headmaster?”

  Trevor didn’t expect this. The kid spoke well but with undeniable subservience in his tone. Was Thet an administrator or a religious leader? The man in charge motioned for the student to take a seat. Thet caught his Exec’s eye and nodded.

  “You speak of a natural conflict, Nyad. I hear it voiced in every rotation. It goes to the heart of being a scientist. We are often torn between possibility and pragmatism. Episteme was designed as a place where we can weigh both in equal measure. I encourage you and your classmates to engage in this rich and open-ended debate.”

  Thet, wearing a tan business robe with intricate red embroidery on the sleeves, lifted both hands, palms facing the students.

  “Business requires my attention at this time. I implore you to reflect deeply and, as always, set your mind to the infinite.”

  The students rose as one and bowed to Thet. They filed through the pixelated door in reverential silence. When the last of them passed, Thet retreated to a small desk in the far corner of his office and waved the deputies forward.

  “Thank you, Iber,” he told the assistant. “Silence the door on your way out.”

  Trevor led Hoshi through the bowl in which Thet’s audience sat. Only as he approached the headmaster did Trevor pay attention to the office décor: Hanging plants, a panoramic screen displaying nature views from the Collectorate worlds, and antiques from those worlds on stands. Not what he expected from the leader of an engineering school.

  He decided to keep their exchange formal as long as possible.

  “Bien Thet, I am First Deputy Trevor Stallion. My Second is Hoshi Oda. We’re here to ...”

  “Ask questions?” Thet betrayed a cheeky grin. “You’re certainly not here to audit classes. Please. Sit.” He turned to Hoshi. “Hokkaido, yes?” After she confirmed her home world, Thet pointed to the tall ceramic pot on his desk. “Pearl tea. Would you care for a cup?”

  Hoshi waited for Trevor’s approval. Formality ended quickly.

  “I grew up on pearl tea, Headmaster. You’ll be hard-pressed to match the quality. We’re renowned for our blend in New Seoul.”

  “So you are,” he said, pouring. “We take a slightly different approach in the Wai-Chiang Province on Indonesia Prime. The leaf is less mature and a touch bitter at first taste. But the finale enriches mind and body.” He handed Hoshi a cup. “You, Trevor?”

  “No. Thank you. Never been much of a tea drinker.”

  Out of annoyed courtesy, Trevor waited for Hoshi to sip and react. Thet leaned forward as if desperate for her review.

  “It’s lovely,” she said in a muted tone. “I can’t help but miss the sweetness. Very pleasant, though.”

  Fine, Trevor thought. If a little cultural exchange made Thet feel more comfortable, all the better.

  “Mr. Thet, we’re here in regard to one of your students.”

  “Bien. Did Iber explain what was happening when you arrived?”

  Trevor glanced back at the empty bowl.

  “Your students?”

  He nodded. “First years. The one you heard – Nyad – arrived last month. A promising young man who is struggling to adapt to life in Episteme. I make a point of consulting with all my students each quarter. They are under immense pressure to succeed. In here, we never discuss coursework or apprenticeships. I give them voice. I want them to know they are seen and supported as human beings. Out there, the Collectorate knows them only for their skillsets.”

  “You have over a thousand students. That’s a lot of consults.”

  He sipped pearl tea and wiggled his tongue between his lips.

  “This batch is a touch off,” he told Hoshi. “My apologies. I’ll need to have Iber brew a fresh pot.” He set down the cup. “Ah. Trevor. If I’m not mistaken, you still haven’t recognized me.”

  “What? I know you?”

  “Seven years ago. Your wedding reception.”

  He drew a blank. Was this guy playing games?

  “You have me at a disadvantage.”

  Thet tilted his chin upward to a condescending angle.

  “The receiving line. We said perhaps ten words. Your grandfather invited many of his colleagues. Maximillian always put on a show where family was concerned.”

  That much Trevor remembered. The reception was twenty-five percent larger than the guest list. Yet Max ensured ample food, drink, and tables for the add-ons.

  “Yes. He did. But sorry, I don’t remember you. Don’t take it personally. Now, to business please. We need to know everything you can tell us about Ulbrecht Hann.”

  Thet dropped his cheeks. He didn’t try to hide behind a mask, as Trevor anticipated.

  OK. This just got interesting.

  10

  THET REACHED FOR THE TEA, hesitated, and sighed. “What has Ulbrecht done this time?”

  Trevor had planned to delay the news, but Thet’s reaction suggested now was a good time to spring it.

  “He died last night. Drug overdose.”

  The headmaster leaned back and stared above the deputies.

  “Dear. So much promise, lost too soon.”

  “Excuse the assumption, Bien, but you don’t seem shocked.”

  This time he sipped his cup dry.

  “Surprised but not shocked. Ulbrecht has been troubled of late. What drug?”

  Trevor squirmed. “It’s not important. Tell me about Ulbrecht’s behavior. It will help us understand why he did this.”

  Thet switched his focus between the deputies.

  “Deputy Oda, how many competitors did you overcome to secure a rotation on Amity?”

  “A few dozen, as I recall. I came here on UNF deferment.”

  He nodded. “Then you had it easy. Maynor receives millions of applicants per year. In the last term, we reviewed seventy-four thousand candidates from Yaniff and selected three. Ulbrecht was our first choice.”

  “That’s impressive,” Hoshi said. “He doesn’t seem like the type to fall in with drugs.”

  Trevor quickly recaptured control of the conversation.

  “Anyone is susceptible to temptation. What would lead a promising student down that road? And what specific troubles have you had with him?”

  Thet said, “The pressure on these students is staggering. They defied enormous odds to find their way here, and they rightly assume a ticket to Maynor assures success in the field of their choosing. In fact, many of our graduates are hired by Halifax, Atumwa, and the other major engineering interests.

  “Those who return home as free agents are expected to become powerhouses in their fields. Here, we work at the leading edge of technology and design. First years are often overwhelmed by the curriculum and the demands of their concurrent apprenticeship. A few reach a breaking point.”

  “Ulbrecht?”

  “Yes. His behavior has been erratic for the past month. His mentor reported inconsistencies in work ethic and temperament. I counseled him myself last week. It did not go well.”

  “How so?”

  “Consults are confidential. I was concerned we might have to initiate expulsion proceedings.”

  “On what grounds?”

  “Academic impropriety. Another student accused Ulbrecht of data-fixing, a difficult charge to prove. In addition, criminal malfeasance. Ulbrecht allegedly threatened the life of a fellow student from Yaniff.”

  Trevor winced. He saw nothing of the latter on Ulbrecht’s jacket.

  “Did anyone report the threat to ESA?”

  Thet sighed.

  “No. The eyewitness statements did not align. As the matter was inconclusive, we chose to keep it in-house. I had hoped – incorrectly, as it now seems – to catch Ulbrecht before he fell.”

  “We’ll need to speak with his mentor, the student he supposedly threatened, and others in his peer group.”

  “Of course. Iber will provide that information as well as his curriculum plan.”

  “What else should we know about Ulbrecht?”

  Thet relaxed and smiled like a doting father.

  “Just a brilliant mind. Someone capable of being remembered through history. Dear, the difference he could have made.”

  “I gather he was studying wormhole technology.”

  Thet’s jaws tightened as the smile vanished.

  “No. How did you ...?”

  “It’s on his jacket. Trans-wormhole shielding tech. I never heard of it.”

  Trevor always looked for tics. In this case, Thet rubbed his palms together in steady circles. He suspected the headmaster of holding something back, but the man’s response stunned him.

  Thet broke into raucous laughter.

  “Dear, that Ulbrecht. If you saw it on his jacket, he must have added it to his biography as an inside joke. And a good one.”

  “How so?”

  “Very simply, trans-wormhole theory is relegated to the lunatic fringe. These are the same people who believe we can reestablish gateways to the other universes. It’s a needlessly complicated and ridiculous pseudoscience.”

  “Is it? I recall that student, Nyad, mentioned reengagement with the other universes. He seemed very concerned, like it was something people were actually considering. You did not exactly dissuade him.”

  Trevor watched those circling palms and Thet’s eyes.

  “At Maynor, we do not censor or denigrate anyone for an opinion. I simply encouraged Nyad to keep an open mind, knowing it would lead him away from the reckless voices.”

  Or straight to them.

  Trevor didn’t say it aloud. He had enough information for now.

  “Unless there’s anything else, Deputy Oda and I will leave you to your space. However, I do caution you not to make any sort of public statement until Sec Admin has cleared protocol.”

  “Of course,” he said. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t stand. I’m still struggling to process it all.”

  “Certainly. We’ll speak to your Exec about those names. Thank you again. We’re sorry for your loss.”

  He motioned Hoshi to follow, and they were halfway across the bowl before Thet said:

  “Was it Motif?”

  Shit.

  Hoshi raised a brow as Trevor debated how to respond.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Sec Admin would not send two deputies to my office if Ulbrecht died of a simple overdose. You’re conducting a criminal investigation. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  Trevor hated threading a needle. He preferred a direct approach.

  “The toxical report is pending. Do you have any reason to suspect Ulbrecht of using Motif?”

  That felt like a good way of skirting around the Chief’s order.

  “Maynor students know better than to risk their lives in such needless fashion.”

  “Of course. Too much on the line. Thank you again. If we have more questions, we’ll be in touch.”

  After they collected names and locations for their next interviews, Trevor escorted Hoshi to a quiet spot at the center of campus. They stared over a balcony down to a Zen garden. The school wrapped around it, rising six levels.

  “OK, Hoshi. Any conclusions?”